Sound
by wren10514
Summary: PretenderHL crossover for crossovers100 on LJ. Two boy scouts team up. Rated for safety
1. Chapter 1

Crossover: HL/Pretender (roughly series 2 before paris HL!verse, series 3 Pretender!verse)

Characters: DM, Jarod, Mr Lyle

For prompt: 037 Sound

Summary: Some people just can't resist helping…

A/N: First in a series of HL/Pretender ficlets – let's see where this one takes me

It was the grunt of pain rather than the sharp crack of the gunshot that made Jarod's heart skip in his chest. Such a small sound to have such huge causes and consequences…

He was too late.

Jarod put his foot down as a sweeper scooped up the squealing boy who had been cowering behind the fallen man and pushed him roughly into the waiting car. Mr Lyle squeezed off three more bullets into the man on the ground before Jarod could skid his car to a stop between them. He tipped Jarod a mocking salute as he dived into one of the Centre cars and sped away.

Jarod jumped at the sound of the passenger side door opening and looked round to see a bloodied hand clawing trying to claw its way onto the seat. Remembering himself Jarod jumped out of the car, dashing round to the other side to where the man lay gasping, blood seeping into his clothes…

…not enough blood…

"Oh my God! We've got to get you to a hospital!" Jarod exclaimed, taking off his jacket and pressing it against the worst of the holes in the man's chest.

Even in the grip of that much pain the man managed to meet his eyes. "No hospitals…"

"But!"

"Promise me!"

Jarod didn't know what else to say. "Okay, okay! I'll do what I can-"

The man smiled. "Just don't try and get rid of the body…it's…a pain…in the ass…"

Jarod felt the man go limp. Why! Why had he got in Lyle's way! This wasn't his fight!

He felt tears leaking from his eyes as he sat back on his heels and stared at the lifeless man in front of him. Sniffing, he wiped his eyes. He didn't have time for this! He had to get to the boy, before he became another one of the Centre's playthings.

A sudden gasp shocked Jarod to his feet. He wasn't dead! Dropping to his knees again Jarod opened the man's shirt despite the injured man's flapping protestations, only to see something he could not explain: little flashes and sparks shot across the wounds in his chest, closing them in a way that Jarod had never seen or heard of before.

"Wh-What?" Jarod asked softly, looking at the man's face clearly for the first time.

He coughed, wincing. "Hi, Duncan MacCleod."

He offered a bloody hand, which Jarod took unthinkingly. "Jarod." He couldn't help the fascination in his voice as he asked, "What are you?"

Duncan actually chuckled, easing himself upright with Jarod's help. "I'm Immortal."


	2. Years

Crossover: HL/Pretender (roughly series 2 before Paris HL!verse, series 3 Pretender!verse)

Characters: DM, Jarod

For prompt: 010 Years

Summary: Age is not always just a matter of time.

A/N: Second in a series of HL/Pretender ficlets – let's see where this one takes me This one's split into two companion ficlets, one from Jarod's perspective, one from Duncan's.

Duncan glanced up from the laptop screen to see the star of the twisted home movies he had been watching looking at him consideringly. He had spent four hundred years learning how to read people, but he hardly needed it with this man. It was written there, in that face, everything he had just seen. A boy, gifted beyond imagination, able to experience the world to a degree that no one has ever experienced before, and yet forced to expand that ability beyond all natural capacity: forced to experience a multitude of things, which no one should have to experience…all while still just a boy.

And he had stayed a boy, Duncan could see that. His body may have grown, but he was still a boy, only now, instead of being locked behind four solid walls, he was trapped in the body of a grown man.

The years of pain were etched in his eyes: each and every one plain to see. A year for every pain, every experiment, every betrayal.

Duncan did not think he had ever met anyone, mortal or Immortal, so old.

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Four hundred years Duncan had said, but he needn't have bothered, Jarod could see it plainly as soon as he had had a chance to see his guest clearly. Jarod had been tested enough at the Centre to know when to trust his intuition about people: he had been trained for it after all. A good man, but trained for combat. As he moved a deadly power moved with him. But this was a warrior who had grown tired of death: of the weight of the sword at his side, of loved ones growing old and dying around him while he stayed the same…a good man trying to protect the ones he loved.

And he was a good man, Jarod could see that. While he may not have always made the right choices, while he may have killed, he remained an honourable man.

The years of pain were etched in his eyes: each and every one plain to see. A year for every one he killed, for every one who died, for every one he could not save.

Jarod did not think he had ever met anyone so old.


	3. Water

Crossover: Pretender/HL (roughly mid season four Pretender!verse, before "Prodigal Son" HL!verse

Characters: Duncan, Jarod, Mr Lyle, Sydney, Angelo

For Prompt: 051 Water

Summary: the two boy scouts are there to save the day.

A/N: part of the "sound" series of ficlets. Usual disclaimers apply – I own nothing yadda yadda…

A/N 2: I have no idea what happened at the Normandy landing – it just sounded good.

The sharp, rotten seaweed smell of low tide filled Duncan's nostrils as he trudged after his guide through the dubious water of the storm drain. He tried not to think about the things he felt tugging at his soaked jeans in the dark, and was only slightly comforted by the fact that this close to the sea it was as likely to be crabs as rats.

"Are you alright?" Jarod called back over his shoulder, the light of the torch shining in Duncan's eyes for a second before it flicked forward again.

"Yeah. It's just like the Normandy landing…only in a sewer."

Jarod chuckled. "You weren't at the Normandy landing."

"How do you know?"

"You were in France during the war, not fighting to start with, but then in the resistance. No one in the resistance would have been at Normandy that day. Am I right?"

"Heh, no wonder they call you a genius."

They trudged further.

"We're here." Jarod announced, passing back the torch as he reached forward to pull open an iron grate, the rusty metal screeching as it came loose. "I'll have to fix that next time I'm here."

"It's always good to have a fall back position."

Jarod's grin stretched in the torchlight. "It is."

The room where they entered was full of billows of steam so that Duncan could hardly see Jarod only a few feet in front of him. At least it was light here and Duncan clicked off the torch, clipping it to his belt out of the way as he breathed in lungfuls of the humid air. He wondered absently whether normal humans found it more difficult to breathe in this kind of atmosphere. It hardly mattered to him since he could breathe underwater, but sometimes it worried him that he forgot how it was to be really human.

He almost lost Jarod as the other man crawled into a ventilation pipe, but quickly followed, his shoulders protesting at being squeezed quite so narrow. Jarod knew these pipes like he knew everywhere in the centre. He hated to be there, the memory of the night of his escape as fresh now as it ever was, and his stomach clenched with fear at the thought of getting trapped here again, but he pressed on anyway. He had to think of the boy. They couldn't let another boy be taken and used like he had been, or worse: like Timmy had been.

Coming around a corner he almost cried out as he caught the shape of someone else in the pipe in front of him. He stopped dead, peering into the darkness.

"Angelo?"

There was a happy grunt from somewhere up ahead.

"What's going on up there?" Came Duncan's hushed voice from behind him.

"Just a second," he called back, before carefully approaching Angelo.

"Angelo, do you know of a new boy they brought here? Do you know where they took him?"

A nod was barely perceptible in the darkness. "Down. Down below."

"One of the sub levels?"

"…the room where Timmy went away…"

"SL 27," Jaord said, dread sinking in his gut like a lead weight. "Duncan we have to hurry!"

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The alarms were blaring, the corridors flashing with red lights. Duncan had dealt with the men guarding him, but since he didn't have his sword with him he was sorry to say they would recover pretty soon. The boy had been unconscious when they found him, so getting him out through the tunnels was not looking so good. He was carrying the kid now as they ran through the complex and if he had seen any less of his guide Duncan might have thought they were lost. He doubted Jarod had ever been lost anywhere in his life and certainly not here. They had not come across any more guards yet, but Duncan hoped there was an exit close by because their luck had to run out sooner or later.

It was sooner

Jarod had just turn a corner when Duncan heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked just behind him and whirled around just as it's owner cried,

"Freeze!"

Duncan froze, the boy still limp in his arms. He turned slowly to face his captor as he heard Jarod's footsteps receding down the hallway.

"Hey I know you…" the man with the gun said, while Duncan wracked his brain for some way he could disarm the guy while still protecting the child in his arms. He noticed the man had no thumb on one hand, perhaps if he could kick the gun at just the right angle that would be enough of a weak spot to make him lose his grip…

"Yeah…I killed you when we picked up the kid. I watched you go down. How'd you manage that?"

"Oh Lyyyyle!"

Jarod stepped out of the shadows, hitting the man neatly in the temple with a piece of door handle.

"Haven't you heard," Jarod said as the man crumpled. "No one dies at the centre." Throwing the door handle away, Jarod gestured for Duncan to continue on the way they had been going. "Come on, we're almost out."

A hand reached out from a dark doorway, grabbing Jarod by the shoulder and Duncan had off-loaded the child to Jarod, and pinned this new player against the wall before he could do more than that.

"Duncan wait!" Jarod, pulled him back, passing the unconscious child back into his arms. "Sydney, what are you doing?"

"You're going to need this." He pressed two vials of something into Jarod's hand. "You know what to do."

"Thank you."

A world of meaning was in Jarod's eyes as he said those words, gripping the vials and turning to go.

They reached the door without further incident running out into the night as fast as they could as, encumbered as they were. They had a car hidden near by and Duncan gently set the boy in the back while Jarod slipped into the driver's seat.

"Come on! Get in!" Jarod insisted as Duncan stepped away from the car.

Duncan shook his head, the buzz burning in his head.

"I can't. There's someone out there like me. He'll be able to follow us. You know how to take care of the boy: you've got to go."

"But-"

Duncan backed away hurriedly, looking frantically from side to side.

"Go! Now!"

"Thank you," Jarod said quietly as he started the car, his eyes full of feeling as Duncan ran off into the night, his coat flapping emptily behind him.


	4. Wet

Crossover: Pretender/HL (roughly mid season four Pretender!verse, Seacouver season 3 HL!verse

Characters: Duncan, Jarod, Richie Ryan

For Prompt: 083 Wet

Summary: Jarod's had a bit of a surprise.

A/N: part of the "sound" series of ficlets. Usual disclaimers apply – I own nothing yadda yadda…

A/N2: I will be revealing the immortal at the centre at some point, but not just yet:)

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Knock knock

Duncan and Richie looked at each other as they felt the presence of another Immortal. Their enemies didn't usually knock…but then again, neither did their friends.

Warily, Duncan rose, picking up his katana as he approached the door and cautiously opened it.

"You knew what I was. That's why told me about Immortals. That's why you didn't just let me think you were dead."

Duncan recognised the bedraggled form on his doorstep and breathed a sigh of relief. The rain was really coming down now and the man's face was obscured by thick rat's tails of sodden dark hair, but Duncan still knew him. The wind whistled through the open doorway, spraying Duncan with rain. He cringed as the cold water hit him and pushed the door wider to allow his guest inside.

Jarod took the opportunity and hurried inside, quickly soaking the carpet and leaving splatters of weather on the walls as he shook the worst of the rain from his hair.

"What happened?" Duncan asked as he passed Jarod a brandy before taking his coat and hanging it up to drip morosely from a hook.

Jarod glanced uncertainly at the other occupant of the room, but when he saw how easy Duncan was around this new person he didn't hold back.

"The Centre found me, took me back to Blue Cove. I killed myself when I finally realised why you had told me so much about yourself. It turns out even the Centre doesn't put too much security on a dead man."

"Whoa, hold on, wait a second, what's going on here? Mac who is this guy?"

"Oh, Richie, meet Jarod, Jarod this is Richie Ryan. Jarod and I met last year while you were travelling."

"Ok, that's a start. Nice to meet ya." Richie stood and took Jarod's hand, clapping him on the shoulder with a sunny smile. There was a squelching sound as his hand met Jarod's sodden sleeve and he pulled away quickly, rubbing his hand dry on his jeans. "So are you here to train with Mac, 'cause you know he's the best around. You're not going to find a better teacher if I do say so myself."

Duncan and Jarod's eyes met. "I don't need a teacher I just need to know one thing…you said all Immortals are found. We have no family?"

"That's right." Duncan said, the old hurt in his eyes mirroring the fresh sorrow in his friend's.

"So all this time, the people I've been looking for, they're not my parents at all. Kyle wasn't even my brother."

"Hey don't worry about it," Richie said carelessly. "They're still your family. They brought you up right? So what does biology matter? My dad was an asshole, but he was still my dad you know? I even managed to follow in his footsteps till Mac got me back on the straight and narrow."

"Richie shut up."

"What? Mac? I was just trying to help…"

"Well don't."

Richie looked at Jarod and quickly shut up as he realised the older man was on the verge of tears.

"Jarod," Duncan began, stepping forward and speaking softly. "Whether you still want to look for your family or not after this is up to you, but for now I think Richie is right. You should stay here for a while. You have a lot to learn."

"You've told me all I need to know already."

"I've told you about Immortals and the rules of the game, but you need to learn how to fight. You need to learn what it is to be an Immortal."

"I've been you. I already know."

"Then show me." Duncan said, pulling back, his voice harder as he reached for his katana.

Richie stepped between them. "Hang on! Don't you think that's a bit hasty for a new guy?"

"It's alright, Richie. It's not like that. We're just going to spar for a bit. Can you lend him your rapier?"

"No need," Jarod said, smiling. He turned and went to his coat was hanging, a puddle sitting underneath it, and pulled out a katana of his own, the grip wrapped with black cord.

"Whoa…" Richie muttered as he followed them into the lift.

Jarod led the way out of the lift at the bottom, turning to salute with his sword and waiting for Duncan to do the same before he attacked.

Richie had seen Duncan fight before, had seen him close to being beaten before, but he'd never seen him put under so much pressure by someone so young and inexperienced. This guy Jarod had only just become Immortal and yet as he watched he knew if it ever came to it there was no way he could beat him. Of course Mac was older than him - if they had been fighting in earnest Richie was sure Mac would have dealt with Jarod in a second…well, almost sure.

It was all over as soon as Jarod missed an easy hit. Richie could see it plain as day and after seeing how Jarod had been fighting he knew Jarod had seen it too, but for some reason he didn't take it. He parried and should have stuck Duncan right in the gut, but backed away instead leaving Duncan ample room to stick him instead.

Jarod gasped in shock, slipping to the floor as Duncan pulled the katana free sharply. He stumbled backwards clutching at the hole in his chest as the world was quickly swallowed by blackness.

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Jarod sat up, wild eyed, when he returned from wherever he had been. He had been lying on Duncan's sofa and looked around to see Duncan pondering a game of chess adding in comments to Richie's babble.

"Hey you're back. Drink? I hate the taste of blood."

Jarod accepted the mug of hot coffee Richie pressed into his hands and sipped at it gratefully though it scolded the inside of his mouth.

"You stabbed me." He said eventually, fixing Duncan with accusing eyes.

Duncan just smiled. "Hey, you gave me the opening, I just took it."

"We were just sparring," Jarod began.

"And how did you think it was going to end? One of us just says we've had enough? You don't get that luxury in a challenge and you can't afford to get into that habit when you're sparring either. There can be only one and if you want to survive long enough to have a shot at that you can't afford to do anything by halves in your training. This isn't some pretend where you can just scare the bad guy while making sure he's not in any real danger. You've not won until your opponent is on the floor, your sword at his throat."

Jarod grimaced a little as he stood, stretching to allow his muscles to finish knitting together neatly. "I'll remember that next time."

"It's not about remembering Jarod," Duncan said with frustration as he rose to stand between Jarod and the door. "This about learning how to kill and I don't think you're ready for that." He paused, hoping for some sign the Jarod understood the importance of what he was saying. "Stay. I can teach you what it means to be Immortal."

Jarod shook his head sadly. "There are things I need to do. I can't let the Centre carry on abusing my sims, taking other children. I have to stop it."

For a moment the tableau held and then Duncan stepped aside and Jarod nodded gratefully, stepping passed him to retrieve his damp coat and slip it on with a shudder.

"Hey, how'd you get so good with a sword so fast anyway?" Richie asked as Jarod opened the door.

"From a book."

"Seriously?"

Jarod shrugged. "It was a good book." He turned to Duncan. "I'll see you again."

With that he stepped out into the night, the earlier pounding rain now only insistent drizzle that soaked him to the bone.


	5. Family

Crossover: HL/Pretender

Characters: DM, Jarod, Kyle

For Prompt: 024 Family

Summary: family is what you make it. Sometimes it needs protecting and sometimes it doesn't.

A/N: this is not meant to be slash in any way! I was just trying to be descriptive and everything I thought of sounded stupidly gay…

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"Kyle stop!"

"Jarod," the pitiful man on the ground burbled through a mouthful of blood, "you can't interfere…"

Kyle turned to gaze at his big brother. "Jarod? You're alive?"

"I'm alive. Now put down the sword…"

Kyle glanced back down at the man on the ground, the deep shadows of the middle of the night obscuring his outline. Kyle lifted his sword to take the final stroke.

_I decide who lives or dies…_ His grip tightened, his face set.

It was like Jarod could read his mind. "No. It doesn't have to be that way anymore. The Centre doesn't control us anymore…"

Kyle wanted to believe Jarod, he did, but for once this wasn't about the Centre.

A stink of rotting meat seeped out of the dumpsters his victim was slumped against making it difficult to think of anything but retching. No! He had to kill Macleod! Macleod was a threat. Even now his wounds were healing: Kyle knew he could take him again if necessary, but he had to move soon, while he still had his nerve.

Without moving his gaze from the panting man on the ground, Kyle spoke to Jarod, gesturing minutely with the claymore in his hand.

"He knows who we are Jarod. He'll come for us, for you. You don't know how these Immortals are…"

"I know Kyle! Duncan told me. He taught me all about what we are…"

Kyle did turn then, surprise making him drop his guard. "Taught you?"

Macleod slipped in the alley muck as he shifted to try and stand, but Kyle whipped around before he got further than his knees, his sword raised making Macleod freeze. His brother grabbed his arm, but he knew he could break the hold in a moment if only his bloodlust wasn't sapped by the presence of his moralising sibling. Jarod's faith in this man was the only thing keeping him alive, but Kyle was starting to think it might be enough.

Macleod coughed, blood spattering to add to the general grime in the alley and leave a shiny, ruby droplet on the toe of Kyle's shoe.

"Has no one told you what you are?" Macleod rasped.

"I know I can't die. And I know how to kill you. I don't need anything else."

Jarod moved closer behind him, taking his arms and trying to ease them down. He was taller than Kyle, his mouth level with his ear as he reached passed him. Warm breath brushed his cheek as Jarod spoke and made him tense in discomfort.

"Kyle, please? Duncan can help us both…"

He shrugged off his brother's hold, but let his sword hang loosely by his side.

"We're pretenders: what help have we ever needed?"

"We need something to learn from. We need someone to become to understand everything…"

Kyle could hear Macleod getting up, but did not raise his sword again. Jarod had always been the sensible one…and maybe he was right but…

"This one," Kyle flicked his claymore in Macleod's direction, making the other man flinch. "He was at the Centre. He came after me when I tried to come to you, help you with the boy…"

Jarod laughed. "_Duncan_ was helping me!"

"I thought you were with the Centre."

Kyle looked coldly at Macleod for his words…but he trusted his brother.

"Sorry." He admitted.

Macleod saluted with his sword in acceptance, before putting the offending article back inside his long coat.

Jarod was grinning from ear to ear as he pulled Kyle into a warm hug.

"I thought you were dead. Your heart…"

Kyle couldn't help the smile that played at his lips as Jarod's happiness washed through him. Still, he slowly pulled away, unused to the contact. He shrugged in answer to Jarod's implied question. "It grew back."

Macleod was scanning the ends of the alley, straightening his clothes and trying to hide the worst of the blood stains. Kyle understood: he had been running and hiding for more than long enough to know the gestures of a hunted man. The late hour would help to some extent, but this was a land of streetlights and they needed to leave quickly before they were spotted.

"Come on. We can talk at the dojo." Macleod offered, catching the understanding in the pretenders eyes.

Kyle was still suspicious, but followed obediently behind as they walked, the orange of the streetlights washing over them serenely once they began the short walk down the main road.

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A few curious looks followed them into the dojo, but nothing more. Macleod let Kyle precede them inside, stopping Jarod with an arm across the door.

"Are you going to tell him? That he's not really your brother?"

Jarod's deep brown eyes met his squarely, with a hint of challenge.

"I'll tell him that our parents adopted us both from NuGenesis, but I won't lie to him. He'll always be my brother."


End file.
